


Their First Time

by Andrl



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Casual Sex, Episode Tag: Ghosts, Episode Tag: s01e02, First Time, M/M, Oneshot, PWP, Smut, rinch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 13:37:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10219505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andrl/pseuds/Andrl
Summary: What if Reese and Finch's first time was earlier than even makes sense? Shameless excuse by me to write smut. Finch has a request and Reese is all for it. My first POI fic. Sorry there are no beloved tropes. This one just sort of dives straight in lol





	

Once they had confirmed Teresa had been taken safely into Detective Carter’s care, John Reese and his mysterious employer turned to go their separate ways. Before he left, John felt Finch slip a piece of paper into his hand. They made no eye contact, continuing on their way in opposite directions along the sidewalk.

He had found some semblance of privacy away from passersby and nosy cameras, and took a look at the paper. On it was an address and a time. John's heart skipped a beat. Had the very private man suddenly decided to trust him? Was this where he lived, perhaps? He looked at the time – 1900 hours – and checked his watch, although he knew what time it was already.

At 6:50 in the evening, John was sitting in a car outside the address he had been given. He was confused, to say the least. The address wasn’t some swanky townhouse, but rather a very ordinary-looking hotel. Could Finch live here? Surely not. Perhaps it belonged to the cover identity who worked at the software company. After all, _he_ couldn’t be seen to have the funds that the real Finch possessed.

Reese watched the clock tick over past 7 with no sign of his boss, so he exited the car and made his way to the reception desk inside. A middle-aged man dressed in shabby clothes greeted him, eagerly, at the desk.

“Need a room for the night?”

“No,” John replied. “I’m just here visiting a friend.”

“Oh,” the hotel manager sighed.

“The man in Room 204, does he live there?”

“Uh…no,” replied the manager. “Room 204 was just booked for tonight.”

“Thank you,” John smiled, his face a mask. His mind, however, was more and more curious. Was this a meeting of some sort? Had Finch been expecting a new number? How was that even possible? And why couldn’t they just meet at the library?

John ran up the stairs, two at a time, and knocked on the door to Room 204.

There was the muffled sound of a chain sliding and then Finch opened the door. His eyes were unreadable, but full of…something.

“Mr. Reese, you came.” Finch stepped aside and gestured for John to enter.

“Yeah, Finch. What’s going on? Do we have a new number?”

“Not yet, Mr. Reese.”

Reese absent-mindedly allowed Finch to remove his jacket for him and hang it up. Then Finch removed his own until he was just in his waistcoat and shirtsleeves and hung it up, also. Then he sat down on the bed.

“You don’t know why I asked you to meet me, do you?”

John shook his head. Finch’s mouth twisted awkwardly and he looked at the floor.

“I thought you and I had been getting along, somewhat, and that we…connected in some way. I’ve never done this before, Mr. Reese, forgive me, but I…I’ve booked the room for the whole night, and...” He trailed off.

Realisation slowly dawned on John.

“Uhhhm…”

“I’m sorry for being so forward,” Finch stood up and limped over to John. “I’m just…” He was looking at John’s knees as he spoke. “It’s just…you’re the only one who knows I’m alive, and I thought maybe I wouldn’t have to be alone, just for tonight.”

John didn’t understand why he wasn’t taking a step back. Finch was so close to him now. His mouth had gone dry.

Finch glanced at John’s face and John could see colour rising across his cheeks. He abruptly broke eye contact again.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, and moved towards the hanging jackets as fast as he could manage. “So stupid,” he muttered. “I’m sorry, Mr. Reese. I don’t know why I thought this was appropriate. If you no longer wish to remain in my employ, I’d understand. I can leave you a generous severance package…”

John spun around on his heel and blocked the door, unsure of what mysterious force compelled him.

“I don’t need money, Mr. Finch,” John said. “I need a purpose, remember? You won’t get away with firing me that easy.”

“Y-You mean you don’t want to quit-?”

“Finch, shut up! Listen…” Finch looked bewildered as John grabbed him by the front of his waistcoat. “You’re not the only one that’s lonely, you know?”

John had thrown all caution to the wind. He ignored the rational voice in his head, and the only one he listened to now was the one that told him to hold onto Finch, to touch him, feel him like he hadn’t felt another person in a long, long time. He began to unbutton the stiff vest, first. Finch looked bewildered, still, but his eyes shone with unmistakable arousal. As John moved on to the buttons of the expensive shirt, Finch’s hands cupped John’s ass and pulled him closer until he could feel Finch’s erection pressed up against him. Finch began to undo the buttons on John’s shirt, his nimble fingers working with the speed and precision one would expect of a computer genius.

Both their shirts fluttered to the floor and John grinned internally when he saw Finch lick his lips at the sight of his bare chest. They stood there, a foot apart, breathing heavily, both noticeably hard and naked from the waist up. John took the opportunity to drink in Finch’s appearance. He wasn’t conventionally attractive, but John didn’t worry about things like that. He had narrow shoulders, a soft belly and a hairy chest, and he looked so small and vulnerable without the armour of his illustrious suits.

“So,” said John, “are you gonna fuck me or not, Mr. Finch?”

Finch began to undo his belt, and John followed suit. In a rush, he pulled some things out of a drawer and pushed John down onto the bed, straddling him. Then Finch pulled his cock out and hurriedly opened a condom, sliding it on while John watched. John wriggled around until he was on his stomach, and Finch accommodated him. The next thing he felt was the cold shock of lube being spread in between his ass cheeks. Finch’s nimble fingers were warm though, and it sent a shiver down his spine as he felt them probing and stretching.

“Are you ready?” Finch breathed.

John nodded

“Fuck me.”

Despite the air of desperation, Finch was gentle and took his time. John felt the head of his cock against his asshole and he pushed back, encouraging it. It felt so good. It had been a long time since he’d been fucked like this. There was the familiar pain as Finch pushed in, ever so slowly, and then the head pushed through and the rest of him slid in easily.

John gasped at the feeling of Finch’s cock stretching him and pressing on his prostate. Then Finch began to move. He draped himself over John’s back, pressing his face into the crook of John’s neck, and moved his hips, hitting that sweet spot over and over while John moaned.

“Do you like that, Mr. Reese?” Finch whispered in John’s ear.

“Yes, God, ugh…” John replied, grunting out the words.

Finch began to pick up the pace. He let out small, repressed moans, and John could hear the need in those sounds. He needed this, badly. No wonder he’d been willing to disregard convention and invite John here, tonight, to do this. John was glad he had, because he needed this, too.

He felt his own cock, wedged between his stomach and the bed, respond to the pounding of his prostate with release. He buried his face in the pillow as he came all over the bed and his belly, and felt more than just sexual tension evaporate from his body.

“Fuck,” John breathed.

Finch pounded into him one more time, and then his orgasm hit, as well.

Afterwards, they cleaned themselves in silence, avoiding eye contact. When they accidentally did look at each other, it was with a seductive glance here or a shy smile there, not the embarrassment he would have expected.

Both men got dressed, and John moved towards the door, his back to Finch. Suddenly, he felt awkward, unsure of what would happen next.

Finch was still by the bed.

“I suppose I’ll see you at work, Mr. Reese,” he said.

In a moment of spontaneity, John turned around and headed towards his boss. There was barely time to register the look of confusion on the other man’s face before he grabbed him and kissed him. Finch kissed him back, enthusiastically. They wrapped their arms around each other, their lips pressed so closely together that it felt, for a moment, like they were the same person.

It was over before it had begun. John pulled away, not sure yet whether he regretted his action or not. He turned without looking and headed back to the door. Just before he left, he heard Finch call his name. He turned.

“Yes, Finch?” His emotions were tucked, safely, behind his mask.

“My name’s Harold, by the way.”

“Okay, Harold,” John nodded. “See you at work.”

Harold smiled, and despite himself, John smiled back for a moment, and then he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Do I use too many commas? I know they're grammatically correct but I wonder if it'd flow better with less...


End file.
